


Ganymede

by jerzah



Series: Ganymede [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Science Fiction, Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-10-26 12:36:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20742311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jerzah/pseuds/jerzah





	1. Everett

A fog-covered morning in late August, a long road trip filled with encouragement and doubts.  
I gripped the handle of my bag tight, my dad gripped the steering wheel tighter. My eyes had gotten so used to trees and roadkill that the faintest hint of a man-made sign stood out to me like a beacon of hope. The calls of ship horns and cries of waves soon followed.

“You sure you want to do this?” My dad turned his head back to look at me. His face told me to stay home, that there’d be plenty of opportunities back in Lias Falls, that he’d be oh so lonely without me there. His dark hair was a rat's nest, his face paler than usual, and his glasses began slipping from his chiseled nose.

I softened my expression and put on a reassuring smile so he couldn’t see my doubts," I’ll be fine, this is gonna be great for all of us."

He turned back around; I pulled out the admission letter from my pocket and read it again.  
“To the parents of Everett Darwin Sierra,  
Your child has been invited to the Junior Academy branch of Markuson University at Macabay, California for his remarkable GPA, exam scores, and achievements in engineering. Your child has amassed many rewards in robotics competitions up to a national level and our program wishes to expand his opportunities and allow him to pursue careers in the field. Please contact us below if you are interested in enrolling your child into the Markuson University Junior Academy Program.”

It was all still a dream. I should’ve woken up the day I received that letter. And yet, here we are now four weeks later with living arrangements planned and student ID number burned into my mind.

“You better not lose that letter now, put it in your bag will you, Evie?” I saw my mom’s smile and kind eyes behind sunshades from the front mirror.

“Okay,” I turned the backpack sitting next to me around, neatly tucking the letter away within a binder inside, “How long do we have left?” I took a glance at the sign outside my window. A faded, navy blue background and gold text that read:

“Welcome to Macabay- Little Town of Wonders!”

A seagull sat on top, picking away at its wooden frame.

“Well, we’re here, but we’re meeting your brother at this place called Rivers End Plaza, keep an eye out for it.” My dad said grimly. We all knew he was much, much more worried about my new home rather than my new school. I was barely away from home during my first 16 years of life, to say this was all a change would be an understatement.

Away from his last son, who was stuck with his estranged son. Would he have an influence on me? Would I forget to make my nightly phone home? Would my old man ever get to meet my new friends?

Seated behind the wheel, fighting the urge to turn around and keep me under his thumb till he was in the grave, I was sure those were the thoughts that ran through his mind.

“GPS says to take this exit, you almost missed it.” My mom spoke with a monotone voice, slim hands tucked neatly in her lap and eyes staring straight ahead. She could never worry; She could never be excited. To Mrs. Ivory Sierra, everything was always exactly in its right place.

I turned to look over at the left window and was greeted by the beach. It looked like it had been left in its pure, natural form. There were no setups of towels and umbrellas, no plastic-colored beach balls interrupting its neutral blues, not even footsteps embedding the ghostly sand. The patchy dunes soon clouded my vision of the seemingly endless ocean with little to say.

I turned back to the right window. All the storefronts had been set here. They were humble, nothing bold or name brand to be seen. A food truck here, a surfing shop there, a library just over yonder... The most extravagant place in eyesight was an aquarium. Even then, it had hand-painted signs and an area about as big as any other store near it. I tried to pinpoint places I’d want to go to, or anywhere that could be a hangout spot but my mind kept subconsciously comparing it all to the busy city of Lias Falls, and everything seemed bland.

Up ahead, peeking above a generic clothing store, was a sign painted in washed-out sea-foam green. As we got closer, I could see the words “Rivers End Plaza” in bold, white text above a list of logos for whatever occupied the plaza.

As the sign got clearer, my head got cloudier.

Why was I nervous? What did I have to be nervous about? The town was quiet, much more welcoming than the blaring streets I’m from. I was never nervous about Markuson either; They invited me for a reason and my brother would be there to guide me through the ropes. I brushed it off as being away from home; I was never very independent to begin with (hence why I can’t do dorm life yet...).

As we parked into an empty lot near the sign, I reassured myself I’d have everything I’d ever need.

My thoughts were interrupted by my dad’s loud sigh. I looked up to see him holding his phone with one hand and rubbing his temples with the other.  
“Late, always...” He muttered under his breath. I unbuckled my seat-belt, sat up, and leaned forward enough to peek over his shoulder. Dad was texting my brother, known in his contacts as “Son #1”. In the blink of an eye, a comet hit my stomach, and I suddenly remembered why I was so nervous.

The rivalry was back; The competition hadn’t ended yet.


	2. Everett

I should give some context, shouldn’t I?

My brother and I, six years apart, polar opposites, lifelong best friends, lifelong enemies. To put it simply, I was always stuck in his shadow. We got along pretty well for siblings 6 years apart, it was something you'd see in an average sitcom. Except, he wasn't average. 

He was always top of his class, excelling in biology to the point I’d be dragged across the country for science fairs I never understood. Awards always decorated his room, which he never left. As I got older, my passion for robotics sparked. My parents didn’t care, not while my older brother had been busy getting full rides to Ivy League schools and letters from researchers. They were especially neglectful when he got invited to the first junior academy program at Markuson, a school known for its breakthroughs in science. With a son like that, I couldn’t do anything right. I know the words “Why can’t you be more like your brother?” all too well.

It wasn’t until a stressful fight, the night before he left to Markuson, I had my own potential. I never knew what the fight was over. They told me to go to my room pretty quickly. They still don’t like to talk.

Something told me he hadn’t changed. That if he made a reputation for himself as a prodigy in the metropolis of Lias Falls, he’d be well known here. That I’d have to prove myself, once again, to be more than a little brother.

I heard a car pull up nearby; I whipped my head around to face the right window, looking over my mom’s shoulder now. Blue, old, and with a broken side mirror. My dad’s phone buzzed again.

My mom chuckled, “Is he gonna come say hi to us?” I shrugged. She unbuckled her seat-belt and halfway opened the car door before looking back at my dad. He was still rubbing his temples and seemed deep in thought, eyes tightly closed.

“Are you coming?”

He nodded, unbuckled his seatbelt, and got out of the car. I grabbed my bags and did the same. After a couple seconds of standing awkwardly behind my parents like a cowardly puppy, I could see a figure from the other side of the blue-hued car. Perfect posture, hands in jacket pockets, silent steps, nervously shifting his gaze everywhere but to us, an anxious smile tracing his lips. Unkempt, thick, dark hair, clouded glasses, patchy stubble, and a worn out band shirt and jacket. Six years, and the closest he’d look to a scientist was a mad one.

“Um, nice to see you all again.” The sentence sounded scripted, as if he’s not adjusted to casual conversation. If my brother wasn’t 22, I would have thought his voice cracked.

I sat back and watched a few friendly greetings, a hug from mom, a handshake from dad, and light talk about grad school. 

"Hey! Emory!" I grabbed his attention. 

He adjusted his glasses, "Everett Sierra, future engineer, hm?" 

"Nah, future mecha pilot." 

"And I'm the new Victor Frankenstein." He smiled. 

"You're both just weirdos, but the smart ones," My mom said, "Keep in touch, kids, and don't catch anything on fire." 

My dad placed one hand on my shoulder, and the other on Emory's, "You boys be careful now, I've got all my trust in both of you. If anything comes up, you know who to call." 

We both said "Yes sir" simultaneously. Old habits really don't die, do they? He shook his head with a sad grin and put his hands back in his pockets. Emory and I started walking back to his car before my dad called out to me once again,

"And Everett?" 

"Mhm?" 

"Don't get overwhelmed by Markuson, you'll do great." 

I threw back a thumbs up as a reply, "I'll keep you updated!", almost tripping over my own feet as I eagerly got into the passenger's seat of my brother's car. 

We'd been on the road for five, nerve-filled minutes. 

"So, I was thinking we could go stop and eat somewhere, catch up and all that." Emory said. 

"Do we have food at home?" Knowing he's a college student, I didn't want him to spend any extra money if it wasn't necessary. 

"Well, it's the sushi place down the road or five day old pasta. Take your pick."

I didn't skip a beat.

"Sushi. We can get sushi." 

Eventually, we pulled up to a small cafe, just off the beach. The sign, which simply read "Sushi Cafe" looked fairly new, especially compared to everything else in the area. When we went inside, my attention immediately got drawn towards the koi fountain stationed against a wall. Streaks of autumn colors danced peacefully underneath the water. A few lily pads accompanied them above, being ever so slightly pushed by the never ending stream that flowed down the rock wall. The bottom of the fountain was covered in a layer of change, a symbol of an odd, but untouchable tradition. How many wishes came true? Maybe they were granted months, even years after the coin had rusted and you forgot all about that loose change and the fountain of your dreams. You wouldn't even notice. 

Emory had to tug on my sleeve to get my attention, we were being seated and I was stuck on my own cloud again. Presumably not for long though, as both my brother and the waitress didn't seem bothered. 

"Sorry." I said anyways. 

"There's no reason to be. It's a cool fountain, isn't it?" Emory replied as we were led to a table on the other side of the room. 

"I always begged dad for a fish. You thought I was weird because I didn't want a dog, just a fish." I reminisced and sat down across from him. 

"It was weird, and we didn't get any pet. I have a dog now though, so did you ever get your fish?" 

"WHAT?! Since when do you have a dog?!" I nearly jumped in my seat, clearly scaring the waitress who was humbly approaching our table. I liked fish, sure, but dogs were mans best friend for a damn good reason. 

"...Could I get you two anything to drink?"

I looked at her with an apology written on my face, “Just a water, thanks.” She wrote it down on a small notepad. 

“I’ll get a water too, and some green tea. Thank you.” Emory piqued up from across the table. She wrote it down again before nodding and walking off. I would probably never see that woman again in my life, but I knew that awkward memory would be keeping me awake soon anyways. 

“So, it’s just a bulldog named Frank. He’s pretty lazy and only gets up to eat, but he’s smart too, he figured out how to lock and unlock doors.” 

“You two are just alike.” 

“...I hope you brought money for this check.” He responded with a piercing stare that was reminiscent of what a teacher would give to a disruptive student. It only made sense, he was in school to become a professor. Do they teach you that stare in training? Do you wake up with it? For Emory, I think he was simply born with the composition and intimidation of a mentor, but even the goofiest teachers have that look. Another unsolved, unquestioned mystery. 


	3. Everett

“So, what are you doing for a job now?” I asked. 

“A researcher at Alvarez Labs, mainly, but I do some lectures and teaching at Markuson sometimes too." 

The dark haired waitress from before came over and brought our drinks, I ran my finger along the rim of my glass, watching the ice float slowly. Alvarez Labs sounded familiar, but I couldn't put a finger on it.

“Interesting… So, is Markuson hard? Like for my standards.” I tried to pretend like I wasn’t nervous about it, but I couldn’t picture the classes as anything but a no win and my future peers as anything but great scholars next to a peasant. I knew I was being dramatic, but there wasn’t any way to stop. 

“You’ll be fine, it’s no boot camp. I recommend joining a club, if colleges see you have both Markuson and extracurriculars on your resume, you won’t have a problem going anywhere.” Emory took a sip of his tea and I saw the lens of his glasses build up even more fog than usual. He took them off and wipe them off on his shirt with an irritated look on his face. I was almost shocked to see his eyes. 

Emory knew a lot of things. Lens cleaners were not one of them. It was hard to see his eyes behind his glasses, the clouded glass more closely resembled paper. With only one functional eye to begin with, he didn’t treat sight as a gift. 

“Any clubs you recommend?” In my first two years of high school, I didn’t join any. I barely knew what they did, and I never really had any interest in knowing. It’s not like I had a negative view on them, I just didn’t want to spend another hour of my day at school, no matter how hard the robotics club would beg. I suppose I had no choice now though, the roadblock to college known as extracurriculars had to be dealt with sooner or later. But if I was just gonna get my good resume and go, I want to at least enjoy it as much as I can. 

“Well we have a robotics club, but…”

“I do robotics all day, variety is the spice of life, Emmy!” 

“That’s what I was gonna say, something along the lines of that.” He took another sip of tea, but didn’t bother to wipe the steam off his glasses this time, “I think you’d like the newspaper club.”

"Why's that? You know more than anyone that writing's never been my thing..." My relationship towards literacy had been tainted long ago by unyielding teachers and mind numbing books on the Midwest. 

The waitress came by again and we both ordered lightly, a tuna roll for the both of us, except mine was the spicy variant. 

"Well, the newspaper program is pretty distinct from the one most schools have. Since our town is so small, they report on stories all around Macabay instead of just Markuson. They're even trying to stretch to neighboring towns if I remember correctly..." Emory said. That caught my interest. 

"So it's more of a newspaper stationed in the school rather than a school newspaper?" 

"That's basically it. They get a lot of resources because the president is from a really rich family or something." 

"Who's the president? What's it called?" I didn't like writing and I REALLY didn't like photography but I sure did enjoy exploring. I jumped into this town blindly, it couldn’t hurt to learn about my surroundings. 

My brother looked a bit lost in thought for a minute, almost frustrated with himself as he tried to recall those details.

"Ah I can't remember, they'll have flyers everywhere though." 

I guess I'd just have to look, if I really was interested in this program.


	4. Emory

"I mean it sounds cool and all but my writing skills have always been...bad." Everett said as our food came. My little brother didn't give a moment of consideration to the chopsticks on the table, opting instead to stab the roll with a fork and mix it with an ungodly amount of wasabi. 

"Journalism is more than writing. You're a charismatic guy, I think you could do interviews and the like pretty well." Although I'd never say it to his face, Everett's seemingly natural charm was something I always admired. Maybe even jealous of. He had a laid back demeanor and helped other people as if it were a hobby. His own emotions he tended to keep to himself and chose to exhibit nothing but positive energy. He never had problems making friends wherever he went, whether it was waiting in line at the grocery store or a new class. Childish as it was, it used to make me almost resentful. A feeling of inferiority I didn’t wanna acknowledge as a teen. As years past, I only wondered if he ever felt the same way, or how he felt at all. 

I took a bite of the sushi roll, it always tasted strange without soy sauce. 

"I'll look at it, what clubs were you in as a teen?" Everett was ripe with curiosity. Of course he was, he loved to listen, a trait that was a bit of a double sided blade. 

An interesting question. Luckily, I was occupied with chewing so I got some time to think about it. I stared at the dangling light between the two of us and did just that. It should've been simple, I remember exactly what clubs I was in, but did I want to remember? Not exactly. 

"Beta club and student council." I half mumbled and took another bite of sushi, dipping it in soy sauce this time. 

"Student council?!" His eyes lit up. I knew he would be interested in hearing about that one, "What part of student council? You never told me any of this." 

I didn’t tell you a lot of things, Everett. 

"I was just the secretary. It really wasn't anything great, just extra work and a field trip at the end of the year." 

"Hm, You know, you don't really seem like the kind of guy to run for student council." Everett was running his finger along the rim of his glass again. Although it hadn't been very long at all, he had already finished his meal and all the wasabi with it. 

"I didn't. My friend nominated me as a joke and..." I let out a long sigh, reliving high school was not something I wanted to do that night, "Our class was really, really small. A bug could have ran for president and have a decent shot." 

“It’s still a pretty small class, isn’t it?” He tapped his fingers against the table. Always fidgeting. 

“Mhm. You’ll make friends pretty easily, it’s connected to the main campus too so I’ll be close most of the time.” I didn’t have many classes anymore so our schedules would be off, but I also didn’t think he’d ever feel the need to come to my side of the campus. Everett didn’t like asking for help, yet I gave him the offer. 

He responded with a simple nod and focused his attention towards his now buzzing cell phone. I finished the rest of my food and waited on the check. Gazing over at the koi fountain nearby, I started worrying about the school year once again. 

I’ve always liked to pretend that I had no troubles in school or my job. There was a reputation to keep up as top of my class in Markuson and an associate scientist at Alvarez Labs. I had no doubt that it was these expectations that caused me the most stress. Would I ever do anything about these expectations? Of course not, what was there to do? I didn’t want to think about it anymore, I was just repeating my nightly thoughts. 

The check came. I paid and drove the two of us home while trying to keep my mind as blank as I could.


End file.
